On Heartbreak Ridge: Movie Trilogy Prequel Novella (The Movie Trilogy) (8 page)

I stood up so quickly, my chair toppled over behind me.
Infuriated, I slammed my hand over my keys. “Why the
fuck
didn’t you tell me?”

“Keaton.” He stood, holding his hand up defensively. “You’re like a son to me. I didn’t want to see you hurt-”

“-
you
should have told me,” I barked, wrath running rampant through my veins. I knew better than to drive angry; I had a hard enough time paying attention to the road as it was, and, as Frank had pointed out, I’d started drinking an hour ago. “Call me a cab. Kathy! Call me a cab!” I shouted.

My secretary
was reaching for her phone, her eyes wide with panic. I ignored her and Frank, stalking to the elevator with my keys anyway.

My Audi
was parked in my special spot, prime parking for Oscar winning director Keaton fucking Thane. I shifted into reverse and spun the tires, grinding the transmission as I barreled toward my home.

She wouldn’t hurt me.

Over and over, I tried to tell myself that, even if she was fucking someone else, she wouldn’t do it in our
home
. Deep down, despite all of our problems and bullshit, I did love Kelsey. I’d spent the last seven years married to her. She loved to dangle on my arm as we made our way though the press, and she’d supported me through the shitty times, too.

She wouldn’t do this to me.

I blinked twice, unsure if the car I saw parked in my driveway was actually in my driveway, or the drive next door. Our Palisades home loomed ahead, and I peeled into my driveway, throwing the car into park.

A black
Lamborghini.

I
wrenched my keys from the ignition, shoving the sleeves of my white dress shirt up to my forearms. I’d never felt so out of control in my life. Part of me wanted to believe whatever she was about to tell me.

Part of me wanted to murder her.

Rather than bursting through the front door, I eased my way in, taking stock of the kitchen. Two champagne glasses.

Articles of clothing littered along the carpet, leading to the stairs.

I followed the clothing trail, stopping for a moment to reach for Kelsey’s bra.

And I laughed.

I laughed so fucking loudly, I was positive they had to have heard me. My response was a pleasured scream from upstairs.

Kelsey’s
voice. 

And then a
deep, masculine moan.

It was contrite. It was so
fucking
clichéd that, instinctually, I wanted to scream CUT and start the scene all over again. I decided that was exactly what I was going to fucking do; I’d laugh, I’d be sarcastic, and I’d show her that she could sleep with anyone that she wanted and I didn’t give a fuck.

Keaton, what do you wish for, son?

Of all times, my dad’s voice echoed in my head.

I’d been through worse. I stood against the wall in the hallway, listening to my wife fucking some guy, reminding myself that I’d been through hell and back, and this was nothing. This was superficial. This was a means to an end.

For the first time in seven years, I thought about the night he hit Luke.

My little brother
had been hiding in the garage when I got home from school; I knew because Grandpa and I searched the entire property, screaming his name. Luke had gone to the clinic with a stomach ache, and the school nurse called my mother to pick him up. When she didn’t answer, my dad came to get him and bring him home.

When Luke confessed to lying about his stomach ache because he was nervous about taking a math test, my dad hit him across the face, splitting his lip in two places.

“That’s it. Keaton, take your brother inside.” Grandpa was already on the phone before I could ask what he was doing.

The police showed up, waiting for my dad to return from the bar. Robin, Luke, and I watched as they cuffed my father, leading him to the police car.

“What are you doing?” my mother demanded, glaring at her father.

Grandpa only caught her in his arms, hugging her tenderly.
“What I shoulda done long ago, Jane. These kids don’t deserve this. Neither do you.”

My mother broke down sobbing
, and Robin took Luke upstairs to clean him up. I ran from the house.

I didn’t stop running.

It rained sometime in the dark hours of morning, and Grandpa found me sleeping in the back of his pickup.

“
I promise you, Keaton. The bad times don’t last forever, son. That’s what makes life bearable.”

I rounded the corner, staring into my open bedroom.

Kelsey straddled him, her huge breasts bouncing as she rode the fuck out of the guy beneath her. Her long, blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, and he reached to slap her ass.

She
mewled like a bitch in heat.

“
I hate you.
”

Unable to control my reaction, I tasted the
revulsion in my words.

My
sentence came out in a shaking exhale. I’d planned to be cynical, to stand with my hands casually in my pockets, laughing as the motherfucker scrambled for his clothes and ran for his life.

Instead, my heart broke.

I did love her; I realized that I did at that moment. I could tell by the pain emanating from my chest. The scene before me burned from deep inside, fueling a rage that I didn’t know that I possessed.

“Oh my god! Keaton!” she
cried, leaping off of him, leaving his wet dick out in the open for me to see.

The dick that had just been inside of my wife.

“Fuck.
Fuck
,” he managed, rushing to roll out of the bed.

“Keaton, Keaton please- please listen to me-”

I stopped listening.

I was incapable of listening to anything but my pulse pounding in my ears.

Time moved in and out, and the next time I focused, blood sprayed from his nose and splashed me in the face.

I had no idea how long I’d been pounding on the guy, and Kelsey was screaming, naked and shaking, fumbling with her phone. Now I was aware enough to realize that a.) the guy was her boss, and b.) I had a loaded G
lock on the shelf in my closet.

The gun was heavy in my hand as I
turned and moved across the room.

“Keaton, no!” she screamed as I weighed the gun in my hands,
aiming the weapon at the bleeding, naked man on the floor. “God, Keaton, please, it’s not his fault, it’s mine, don’t do this! Don’t ruin your life like this! Keaton-”

“Shut the fuck
up
,” I growled at her, shifting my gaze to her beautiful, naked body. I felt nothing but disgust for the curve of her hips, the swell of her perfectly manufactured tits, or the way her hair fell over her chest.

I hated.

“Put the gun down,” a voice called from the doorway.

I turned and lifted my eyes to see two police officers, their guns drawn,
and their faces masks of stone.

The bright, red blood splattered over my shirt finally served to disturb my psychosis, bringing me slowly into reality.

The guy Kelsey had been fucking was bleeding on the floor, unconscious.

Kelsey was sobbing, trying desperately to cover her naked body with her hands.

I was pointing a loaded gun at the man I’d just beaten within an inch of his life, and fully intended to pull the trigger.

My first thought was to cover my wife.

“Where do you want me to put the gun?” I asked stoically. An officer approached, and I let him take the weapon from my hands. The other officer worked quickly to pull my wrists behind my back, linking the cuffs securely.

“Keaton, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kelsey was sobbing.

“Cover yourself, ma’am,” one of the officers ordered, more forcefully than I’d expected. Both men flanked my sides as two paramedics rushed to the man bleeding on the floor.

Kelsey pulled the sheet from the bed, wrapping herself up and taking a step toward me.

“That’s far enough, ma’am,” the other officer warned. “Have a seat over there and wait. We’re going to need a statement.”

She nodded, her chin quivering as she met my eyes.

The two police officers led me out the door and down the stairs. I expected them to be forceful; that’s how I would have directed the scene. Instead, they stopped by the front door.

One quietly read me my rights, and the other responded to several calls over his radio.

“Listen,” he began, after glancing out the window. “I’m going to try to get you out of here as quickly as possible. The paparazzi have already started to gather. Are you injured?” he asked.

“No.” I recognized the air of camaraderie between the two men, and one gave a deep sigh.

“Don’t say a word without your lawyer, Mr. Thane,” he reminded me. “We’ll get you out of here in one piece.”

I thanked them
from under my breath, stepping out into the sunshine.

The sound of the clicking cameras followed me to the car.

V

“Vivian? Can I look at it?”

I was shaking too hard to read the results of the small, plastic stick. Matthew eased into the bathroom, taking a moment to press a loving kiss to my forehead and tilt my chin up so that my eyes met his.

“No matter what happens, I need you to know how much I love you,” he said quietly, with purpose, and I forced a smile to my face.

“Even if I’m pregnant?”

“Especially if you’re pregnant.”

“I’m such an idiot.”

“For falling in love with me? I disagree.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. He grinned, adjusting his glasses.

“Should we look together?” he asked.

“You look. I can’t.”

Bing Crosby crooned “White Christmas” from the radio downstairs as he lowered his gaze to the pregnancy test.

His brows drew together, and he
took the box, focused on the instructions.

“
It’s yes? It’s yes. I’m pregnant?” I asked, frantically reaching for the box.

“
You’re having my baby,” he whispered softly, lowering the stick to the sink. “Vivian, look at me.”

I couldn’t hear. The rushing in my ears made his voice sound a million miles away.

“My parents… already hate me… I…”

“I am in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my
life
in love with you. We’ve rushed everything from the beginning, why stop now?”

I held my breath, covering my mouth as two tears burned my eyes.

“I love you too,” I managed shakily.

“Come here.” He reached for me, gathering me into his arms.

I’d never been more terrified in my entire life.

I’d suspected that I was pregnant with the pangs of nausea, the headaches, and finally, the missed period. As though my body reacted to the confirmation of the purple and white plastic stick, I immediately turned for the toilet to vomit.

I’d
finally
made amends with my parents, and they’d
finally
promised to try to accept Matthew into our lives. It was Christmas Eve, and we were headed there for dinner.

“Vivian, it’ll be okay. We don’t have to tell them tonight. Okay?” Matthew gathered my hair into his hands, waiting for me to
catch my heaving breaths.

“
I’m so close to finishing school-”

“And you will. There’s no reason that you can’t.”

“We have to go… we have to go,” I repeated, standing up straight and turning to the sink. I fumbled for my toothbrush, stopping as I felt his arms sliding around my waist from behind.

“
Love is too weak a word for what I feel.
”

I recognized one of my favorite
movie quotes, grinning at him through the mirror. “
Annie Hall,
” I remembered.

“You always have words for everything, Vivian. I can’t even describe what this feels like, knowing you’re standing here, loving me.”

God, his voice drenched my heart in picturesque promises, allowing me to imagine a life together with Matthew. I turned into his arms, letting him hold me tightly.

“
We can do this?
”

“We’ll turn the
spare bedroom into a nursery. We’ll look for bigger houses- I want more land, better schools for our baby.”

“We’re doing this?” I begged, my voice muffled into his broad chest.

“Yes. Let’s tell my parents tonight, okay?”

We did. His mom and dad were welcoming the moment they met me, and our Christmas Eve announcement forced an excited squeal from his mother as she ran over to hug me.